


Not What it Looks Like

by Wind_Ryder



Series: Tumblr Fics [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:35:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1583537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Ryder/pseuds/Wind_Ryder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irene Adler only dresses as a dominatrix when she's at work. When she's just living her life, she dresses down and is very casual. Sherlock is increasingly confused by this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not What it Looks Like

**Author's Note:**

> Anon: prompt: irene returns to london to see sherlock. 
> 
> equalseleventhirds: also also we were all talking and OKAY au where bbc!irene is still a dominatrix but (like most sex workers) separates her professional personality from her real life so when she’s NOT WORKING she isn’t all super sexual and dominating and shit she’s just living her life and instead of meeting sherlock all naked and stuff she’s like wearing a sweater vest or something and looks totally normal and average and stuff and sherlock is SO CONFUSED 
> 
> soyeahso: Pearls. Sweater set. Grey trousers. Still in Louboutins though.
> 
> _____________________________________________
> 
> This series contains a stand alone stories that were prompted or otherwise posted on my tumblr page. They have not been beta'd and are just flights of fancy.
> 
> Feel free to let me know if you see any mistakes.

Sherlock’s halfway through the list of wedding guests that absolutely do not belong at tables next to each other, when the text comes in. Let’s have dinner. He blinks at it for a moment, frowning as his mind churns over possibilities. He runs his thumb across the phone’s screen, and then taps out a reply. 

They meet at a small restaurant only ten blocks away from Baker Street. Sherlock likes it because its quiet, and generally only frequented by regulars. The owner smiles broadly at him and welcomes him to a table, and he thanks the man kindly. He takes his seat, back to the wall, and proceeds to pretend he’s not interested in the world around him.

When she finally slips into the seat across from him, he’s already prepared a number of topics he wanted to discuss with her, and they all fall flat. She’s wearing a knit sweater, and her hair’s hanging at her shoulders. A pair of sunglasses sits astride her head, and a string of pearls is just visible around her throat. She’s not wearing any makeup, and her nails aren’t painted. It takes him a moment to even reconcile her with the woman he knew. 

“What are you wearing?” He blurts out, before the words catch up with his brain. He closes his eyes, shakes his head in chastisement, and then reopens his eyes. She’s still there. One leg neatly crossed over the other. Grey trousers and ridiculous heels. 

“You didn’t think I dressed like that all the time, did you?” She asked him, smiling in an indulgent way that made him squirm in his seat. He isn’t sure if there’s a safe way to answer that. He scans his mind for one of the topics he wanted to discuss. He drew a blank. He wondered if she liked doing this, throwing him off guard and changing the parameters of their relationship whenever she had a chance. Her smile turned into a laugh and she reached across the table to pat his arm. “It’s all right. I know it’s a bit of a shock.” 

He scowled. She was fully teasing him now. “No shock.” He forced out. She chuckled again, mouth closed but smiling wide, shoulders hopping up and down with each delicate chortle. Her air brushed out of her nose, and the wind peeped through an open window to blow her hair slightly to the right. She tucked one strand behind her ear. 

“Anyway, I came because I heard about the wedding.” He forced himself to concentrate.

“Odd, you’re not on the guest list.” 

“And here I was hoping to be your plus one.” She lamented, reaching into her bag to retrieve something. Sherlock imagined that. Arriving at the church with her on his arm, wearing…something more than her Louboutins. John had made no secret about how uncomfortable she had made him, but considering current events that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Still, the world thought she was dead, and so while the joke might have been entertaining – it wasn’t feasible. 

She passed him a card, and he took it. “What’s this?”

“My well wishes to the happy couple. Am I allowed?” She asked, grinning again. He ran his fingers over the paper. 

“I trust you didn’t sign it.” Rolling her eyes, she returned her bag to the side of her chair. 

“Of course not, but one unsigned letter isn’t going to call attention at a wedding.”

“And I suppose you would know?”

“I know what they’re like.” She informed him, perfectly pleased with her analysis. The wind blew in her face again, and she leaned back. Carefully removing her sunglasses, she then pulled her hair backwards. She took a hair-band from her wrist and looped it around her dark locks, letting it fall in an off center tail down her back. 

He knew he was staring at her, but he honestly couldn’t believe it. She was different from the last time that he saw her, very different. Absurdly different. She put her glasses back on her head, and reached for the menu. “What’s good?” She asked him curiously. 

“Karachi.”

“Hmm?” 

“Teriyaki.” He covered, blinking quickly and forcing his gaze to look back at the menu he’d thought he’d memorized years ago. “The, eh teriyaki is very good.”

“Oh? Any specific meal?” She was teasing again.

“Any of it, all of it, of it all I am generally fond.” She started laughing again, and he found that he was too. 

“It’s good to see you, Sherlock.” She said kindly.

“Is it?”

“Yes. I’m not here to torment you. If you’d like me to leave-” She made a move to stand, but he caught her wrist.

“No. No, it’s fine. Stay.” She settled back into her chair. 

“So…how was death?” She asked him, and he shrugged. 

“Not as restful as I would have liked.” She nodded slowly. The waiter came to take their order, and once he left they talked. It was oddly relaxing and comfortable. She was different in a way that most people aren’t. He had missed her, and he knew he’d continue to miss her when she left. But she was safe for now, and that mattered more than all the rest. 

They departed each other’s company well after the restaurant closed. She was wrapped up in a simple coat that looked homely in comparison to the expense of her shoes.“Do you think about me when you’re not working?” She asked him curiously. 

“I’m always working.” He reminded her, and she laughed.

“That you are.” 

“You’ll do wonderful at the ceremony.” She told him with a smile. She reached up and cupped his cheek. “It’s a shame I’ll miss it.” 

“Next time.” He offered, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. She appreciated the gesture nonetheless. She leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He reciprocated the gesture before letting her stepping away. 

“Goodbye.” They told each other formally. Then she turned and walked down the sidewalk, eventually hailing a cab and disappearing into the night. 

There was still more to do for the wedding, but Sherlock was glad he’d taken the night off. It was nice to see an old friend one last time before everything changed.

**Author's Note:**

> Got a prompt you want filled? Want to just say hi? Let me know!
> 
> falcon-fox-and-coyote.tumblr.com


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